


Of Snow, Coffee and Blankets

by Iithril



Series: We could sing pretty melodies [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Blankets, Gen, M/M, Snowed In, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24076129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iithril/pseuds/Iithril
Summary: There's a snow storm about to rage on New York, and Karen has a good heart.In which a soaked and cold Frank is brought to Matt's office, and can't exactly stay there nor go back roaming in the streets.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock
Series: We could sing pretty melodies [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737022
Comments: 22
Kudos: 104
Collections: Daredevil Bingo





	Of Snow, Coffee and Blankets

**Author's Note:**

> Here I come again, with the following installment of **[Spice it up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22416937)**! 
> 
> It also fills the prompt _Snowed In_ for my Daredevil Bingo card. 
> 
> Many thanks, kudos and a huge load of gratitude to my fantastic beta, [EachPeachPearPlum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EachPeachPearPlum)!

Karen had loved the notebook Matt and Frank had chosen together, and she made a point to use it for all of her research. Every time she needed to remember something, or if she had just discovered a new piece of information, she would take out the notebook of her bag or her pocket and scribble in it. 

Foggy had told Matt she usually looked heavily focused while writing, but that sometimes she would stop and look at Matt with a little smile - “of gratitude”, according to his friend. Matt was genuinely happy that she had appreciated his gift and that it had proven useful, but he still felt like Karen gave him more credit than he deserved. 

He hadn’t been the only one to choose the notebook, just as he hadn’t been the only one to pick the gloves Foggy was now wearing almost every single day. The weather had become quite cold after Christmas and New Year Eve, and snow had become a regular event. Nothing too severe for now, but the upcoming weather predictions were confident a storm was to be loose on New York soon. 

A bit of snow wasn’t really a problem, as far as Matt was concerned. Being blind meant snow couldn’t worsen his vision, and he didn’t drive anyway. The danger, as always, was everyone else. People tended to be a bit inattentive when it came to not bumping into strangers on the pavement, and with snow covering the ground, it worsened. It was apparently an excuse for people not to watch where they walked anymore, and the slippery ground made it more difficult for Matt to dodge. At least his glasses stood out more than during the summer, when it was necessary for him to have his cane around. 

Despite all her good intentions, Karen had been forced to admit she hadn’t found out anything about Frank. Matt hadn’t had much information to give her in the first place, so he understood. But he couldn’t stop the spikes of disappointment that would surge through him without a warning, along with the occasional hint of sorrow. He would have loved to learn more about the man. How he’d ended up on the streets. If he really had a dog. Where he was living in those cold, hostile times. 

But it was no use crying about it. He prayed for the man when he went to church, hoped he was well and in a safe, warm place. He would help those in need as much as he possibly could. He regularly assisted Sister Maggie with her food distribution, but he had adamantly refused to learn how to knit, despite all her subtle and not-so-subtle teasinges. 

Because, damn it, it was getting really cold. Matt liked to walk from his apartment to the office he shared with Foggy, but he had learnt quickly that he needed more than one layer of socks to be able to feel his toes by the time he arrived at the office. Karen had brought them both blankets, since the office wasn’t exactly well insulated. On the days she visited them, she usually wore warm sweaters, and she had chosen thicker pantyhose – Matt had been puzzled at first by the way the sounds were softened around her, but when he had heard her pen tapping on her leg during one of her moments of intense focus, he had understood. 

For now, he was working with Foggy at the office on an illegal eviction case. Given the cold, they both were determined to solve the case as quickly as possible. Karen was supposed to help them in the morning, but it was almost noon so she was clearly running late. Foggy had tried to message and call her, but she hadn’t answered. Matt was only slightly worried, but tried to stay composed as Foggy was _frantically_ panicking about her, convinced she must have had an accident and narrating out loud all the possibilities. 

With each new minute that passed, the circumstances of the hypothetical accident would worsen, and Foggy became more agitated. When he almost spilled his cold coffee cup on all the paperwork they had gathered, Matt decided to put the cup in a safe place, away from anything needed for their case, and perhaps go and search for Karen. 

“We can’t go searching for her, Matt. What if she arrives while we’re gone?” Foggy asked, already dressed up with his coat and searching for his gloves. 

Matt adjusted his scarf, as he could hear the wind outside howling, and tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. 

“This is why _we_ don’t go. You’ll stay here to welcome her when she arrives, and I’ll go search for her.” 

He put a heavy emphasis on those last words, to make sure Foggy understood that thanks to his senses, he would be able to find her more easily if she was outside and needing help. He knew Foggy would pace around and probably call him every five minutes, if he didn’t keep him on the phone as soon as he exited the office, but at least they would be more efficient like that. He wasn’t too worried yet, but that was mostly because he refused to consider the possibility that something had happened to Karen. 

Just as he was about to grab the door knob, Foggy jumped behind him. 

“No, Matt, you’re not leaving me behind like that just because you can hear and smell better than me. It doesn’t work like that anymore.”

Matt turned around. He knew that Foggy was standing in front of him, arm crossed, firmly indicating with every fiber of his body he wouldn’t stay behind. He rolled his eyes behind his glasses and braced himself to argue. As he mentally gathered his argument to convince him, his friend spoke again: 

“And don’t make that face, I know you’re preparing a speech to convince me step by step.” Foggy snorted, and started to move back to his desk.

“I’m telling you, you’re not leaving me behind. We can leave a note on the door for her, if that’s what you’re worrying about.” 

Matt closed his mouth, his attention suddenly shifting towards the muffled sound he could hear at the entrance of the building. He silently opened the door, careful not to alert Foggy, and poked his head in the corridor, turning from side to side. 

“Dear Karen, we are outside in the snow because we were worried something had happened to you. Please consider warning us next time, we already have one mute in the team – I’m talking about you, Matt, just in case – and that’s more than enough. Just call us and we’ll come back.”

Foggy halted his recitation and turned to his coworker, curious about the lack of sassy remarks. For a split second, he was convinced Matt had left without him, sneaky like he could be sometimes. But then he saw his hand on the door knob, and understood he was just behind the door, probably listening around like a goddamn owl. 

“You hear something, Matt?”

“I might, if you weren’t rambling on like that.” There it was, the ever snarky answer.

Foggy witnessed Matt coming back in the office, leaving the door slightly open, and taking out his coat. 

“Don’t tell me she’s downstairs and on her way up now,” Foggy whined, annoyed. He hadn’t exactly enjoyed the thought of searching for Karen in the snowy streets, but Matt always being a step ahead of him was somehow vexatious. 

Matt turned to him, adjusting his scarf around his collar, with a little smile. 

“She’s bringing coffee and a guest, and she put on perfume, that’s why I know it’s her.” 

He would have been able to recognise Karen in a crowd from only the sound of her heartbeat, but he wasn’t going to say that to Foggy. The conversation about his senses had already been tiresome when it had happened, and understandably Foggy had resented him for keeping the secret for so long. Matt had stayed vague on purpose, and for now it was for the best. 

Foggy tossed him his coat and he swiftly caught it and hung it up near his own. He readied himself, focusing on all the signals Karen and her guest were sending. She wasn’t afraid, but perhaps a little bit stressed, so he had to remain vigilant. 

She hadn’t spoken since she had entered the building, and neither had the stranger. He was walking behind her and making very little noise. He smelled like a wet dog, and when Matt finally managed to isolate the information coming from him, he heard the drops of water falling on the ground with each step the stranger took. His heartbeat was slow and steady, a little lower than Karen’s. 

Given the way the sound was reverberating around him, he was a bit taller and way broader than Karen. When his stomach grumbled, Matt almost jumped, startled by how loud the sound was for him.

The realisation hit him as Karen entered and exclaimed, breathless, “I’m so sorry I’m late, my phone died and I met someone on the way. I couldn’t leave him outside so…” 

She put three cups of still burning hot coffee on the desk and started taking off her coat, but her voice derailed as she examined Matt, who was staring at the stranger with an open mouth. Well, not staring, obviously, but he was definitely scanning the man with an intensity she had never seen before.

“Hey, Red. Long time no see.” 

Karen and Foggy turned simultaneously towards the stranger, who had just tilted his head before sighing and talking. They turned back to Matt, waiting for his reaction, as something was seemingly going on that they didn’t know about. 

Matt shifted his stance from side to side, his mouth still open, searching for his words and trying to master his racing heart. _No one can hear it, it’s just you._ He let out a sigh that matched Frank’s. 

“Hello, Frank. Long time indeed. Would you care for a cup of coffee?”

He moved towards the desk, and his lips turned up into the slightest of smiles when he heard Frank closing the door behind him and following him. 

Karen was flabbergasted. She observed the stranger she had found on the street, almost buried in the snow, as he walked near Matt and took the cup of coffee that was offered to him. _This man_ was the one who had helped Matt at the Christmas market? 

Matching her thoughts, Foggy finally broke out of his trance.

“Excuse me, Matt, I think I just misheard you. Would you please introduce us to the man you just served my cup of coffee?”

The man in question shot a side look at the cup he had already started to drink, his fingers curled around it and shaking. He was about to put it back on the desk, but Matt intervened. 

“Wait, no, Frank, you can keep it, Foggy will take mine.” 

_Keep it together, Matt._

“This man here is Frank. He’s the one who graciously helped me at the market, when I got attacked by a bag of spices. Frank, Foggy, my friend and associate.” As he said that, Foggy waved his hand with a little, humorless smile. “And Karen, my friend and former employee, now occasional life-saver. But you’ve already met, apparently.”

“Well, not exactly.” Karen answered, her tone fast and perhaps a little flustered. “I was on my way in, and I just saw him on the pavement, almost buried under the snow, so I thought I could at least bring him here till he warms up.” She looked at Frank, who looked back at her, raising an eyebrow, and she smiled. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Frank.”

Then, she took a moment to search into her bag and in her usual fashion, she brought out a stack of papers, annotated with notes in her own hand, that she displayed on the desk. 

Foggy stepped near her as Matt rushed to offer a chair to Frank, who still hadn’t spoken. He was slowly sipping his coffee, and after each sip he had let out the smallest of sighs. Matt could sense the cold that had taken possession of his hands and his face, dangerously creeping to his chest. 

Frank cast him an inquiring look as Matt showed him the chair, and eventually sat on it and let something fall on the floor next to him. Matt heard his joints crack and hid a wince. 

“Do you want anything else?” he asked. 

Frank was wearing what sounded like a fleece jacket. He had on thick work trousers and heavy, tightly laced boots, but his hands were bare. Water was still dripping from his head and shoulders, and the fabric of his pants seemed drenched to Matt. A bag, perhaps a backpack, was laid down next to him, soaked as well.

“Don’t worry about me, Red. Go see what your nice lady brought me and leave me in a corner, I won’t bother you.”

Reluctantly, Matt nodded and moved back to what Karen had found. She was already explaining to Foggy the details of her discovery, and both of them appeared to have accepted Frank’s presence.

Matt hadn’t exactly envisioned his day going like this, but he wasn’t going to complain about it. As he fidgeted with his scarf, he came closer to his friends and Karen turned to him and started her explanations over, as if there wasn’t a dripping wet man drinking coffee in the corner. 

~°~

Frank was a bit surprised, but damn it he certainly wasn’t going to let it show. He took another sip, savouring the warm bitterness that filled his mouth and trailed down his throat like fire, burning the cold away.

He had been kicked out of his hideout by what had looked like a gang. Unknown to him, that gang, but heavily armed, and, as battle-ready Frank was, it turned out he had been neglectful. Exhaustion could kill a man, and it almost had him killed. 

But for now he was very alive, thanks to that young lady. She had stopped near him to ask if he was alright, and she had invited him almost immediately after he had blurted out some nonsense. He would have been worried for her safety, if he hadn’t spotted the gun she had in her purse, ready to use, her hand dancing around it every time he let out a grunt. 

Frank braced himself and scanned his surroundings. He had followed the lady – Karen, he had followed Karen – out of instinct, and a bit desperately. He hadn’t planned to end up in the office of the blind guy he had babysitted at Christmas like a good Samaritan. 

Business wasn’t great, judging by the furniture. The insulation wasn’t perfect, either; Frank could feel a draught near the window. The chair was comfortable at least, but a rock would have felt comfortable too in his state. 

He needed to get going as soon as possible, he couldn’t stay here forever, and Red was working with his friends. He grunted, already exhausted just by the thought of moving. 

_Come on, Frank, get a goddamn hold of yourself!_

He finished his cup of coffee, and barely contained a wince when all the sugar that had dropped down the cup arrived at once in his mouth. To say Red’s friend liked his coffee sweet was an understatement.

He took a deep breath and stumbled to his feet. His whole body screamed at the effort, but he shut it out – he wasn’t weak, damn it, pain was _nothing_. 

“Woah, Frank, where are you going?” 

Of course, he should have known Red was going to worry. How could he know Frank was moving anyway? 

Matt hurried over to Frank while both Karen and Foggy turned to look at them. Frank grabbed the arm Matt offered him just in time and clung at it like a drowning man. He tried to protest, but Matt guided him back to the chair, gently but with a surprising strength. 

_Stronger than I thought, huh._

Frank ended up with another cup of coffee, this time with “Matt” written on it, various sugary snacks, probably from Red’s friend, and he passively observed Karen and Matt while they searched for a towel to dry him a little bit.

They ended up not finding a big towel, but instead a load of paper ones. Frank used several on his hair, at least till he wasn’t dripping anymore, then he resumed his sulking on his chair with his coffee, which was way more bitter this time. He might as well use this time to rest a little bit, hm? That was good. Nobody could find him here, right?

He kept his eyes on the door anyway. Old habits die hard. 

~°~

Foggy was in the middle of a speech, practicing for the big day as he organised his thoughts and papers around him, when his phone chimed. Less than a second later, Karen’s phone rang too. She pulled it out of her bag, looked at the caller and picked up. 

“Yes, Ellison?”

Matt tilted his head and tried to narrow down the sounds he was hearing to hear what Karen’s boss was telling. 

“ _Did you hear… news?_ ”

Foggy let out a silent curse that Matt heard anyway and put back his phone in his pocket.

“No, I didn’t hear the news, Ellison, I’ve been at Nelson and Murdock all day,” Karen answered, a bit annoyed at the interruption.

Foggy started to pack up his things, shoving everything into his sling bag carelessly. Matt turned to him and his interrogation echoed Frank’s, who was now very awake. 

“Foggy, what’s going on?”

“ _There is a snow storm… less than an hour. You should… home now._ ” 

Without stopping, Foggy answered breathlessly, unaware of the fact that Matt had just obtained his answer. 

“Marci just texted me and told me to go home immediately. Apparently there’s a huge tempest that is about to hit New York, and the mayor asked everyone to find shelter and stay safe.”

Karen hung up and added, “According to Ellison, Coalition for the Homeless are doing a few rounds to offer homeless people a place to stay, but they’ll take the elderly and the youngest first, so I’m not sure…”

Her voice died as she turned to Frank, clinging to his coffee cup, looking a bit silly with paper towels on his shoulders and his hair completely disheveled. He raised his head and looked back at her. 

“Don’t worry about me, girl. I can find myself a place to sleep.”

Thoughts were racing through Matt’s head. He didn’t want Frank to go roaming in the streets again, especially that close to hypothermia and with only two coffees and a couple of cereal bars for a meal. The man was in a very poor condition, and it wasn’t in Matt’s nature to let down people in need anyway. He took a quick breath and took the plunge. 

“Or you can come to my place.”

He felt all the attention shift to him right after the words left his mouth, and immediately composed himself a proper attitude. 

“I live alone and I have a nice couch. Foggy can testify, if needed.”

Matt waved in Foggy’s direction as he spoke, and he heard his friend laugh. As he was putting his cherished gloves on, Foggy added with a humorous tone, “If you can deal with light shining on you all night long, then sure, go for it. I had my best hangover sleep there. And Matt is not bad at hangover breakfast.”

The attention switched back to Frank, who stayed completely still and silent for a moment, before letting out in a raspy voice, “I don’t… I don’t get it. I met you once at Christmas, decided to be kind to you as a good deed. I met your friends about four hours ago, and I drank almost all of your coffee.”

He paused, and Matt could feel his gaze upon him, intense and unwavering. 

“Why would you want a stranger in your house? I’m not as nice as you think I am.” 

His voice was surprisingly bitter with those last words, but Matt chose not to dwell on it and started to build his defense. This was something he was good at, he knew it. Frank didn’t stand a chance. 

Just before he started, he overheard Foggy whispering to Karen. “Here we go again…”. He smiled discreetly as he took a few steps towards Frank. 

“You, a complete stranger, decided to help the poor, unfortunate man that I was at Christmas. You went out of your way to walk me through the market several times, and you gave me good advice for picking my friends’ presents.” 

He stopped, and pointed at Foggy. 

“As you can see, they are making good use of them.”

Frank was observing, an eyebrow still raised, and he decided that he didn’t like where Red was taking the conversation. Perhaps trying to argue with a goddamn lawyer wasn’t the best idea, huh?

“Thus, in these difficult times, I am doing a good deed as well. As you provided me guidance, I offer you shelter. As you eased my pain, I’m giving you food to ease your hunger. And as you proffered me advice, I’m offering you my company, for all that it is worth.”

A slow, steady clap echoed in the room and Matt threw a smile at Foggy, who was saluting his performance – for it was really a performance. 

Frank let out another, deeper sigh. He didn’t have much of a choice before, but now? Now all hope was gone for him. Challenging a lawyer had to be one of the most thoughtless things he had done yet. 

“You win, Red. I hope that couch is as good as you said, ‘cause otherwise I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Matt let out a brief, triumphant laugh, seconded by Foggy, who was now wrapping himself in his coat and bracing to face the cold outside. Karen lent a hand to Frank to help him get up and released him from his paper towels, and he grabbed his backpack and waited with her for Matt to dress up. 

Foggy waved them goodbye and shouted at Matt a loud, “Pray for me!” which made his friend snort. Just by opening the door of the office, they all felt the temperature drop and Frank stifled a shiver. 

Matt swiftly put his coat on and buttoned it up to his neck, then proceeded to tuck his scarf under it and make sure his skin was covered and protected from the biting wind. He grabbed his cane and deployed it.

He moved to the door and opened it wide for Frank and Karen to go through, then closed it behind them as they moved to the exit, and locked it. He could hear Karen murmuring encouragement to Frank, who was quite unsteady despite the caffeine running through his veins – or perhaps because of that caffeine. 

They all went down the street, and Karen let out a strangled cry at the cold wind which was blowing aggressively. She handed Frank to Matt without a second thought then waved them goodbye and made Matt promise to text her when they got home, a promise he only accepted by making her do the same. Matt felt her hurrying away, careful but hasty on the snowy pavement. 

He adjusted his grip on Frank’s elbow and asked him, a bit concerned by Frank’s lack of movement, “Are you okay? Ready to go?”

Only a grunt answered him, but judging by how Frank’s heartbeat had sped up ever so slightly, Matt guessed he was ready, so he got them moving.

~°~

The trip back to Matt’s apartment was strenuous for both of them. Frank was the one who was _supposed_ to guide Matt, with instructions to lead him to Matt’s place. Yet the combination of the rush of caffeine, the drowsy state he had been in back at the office and the cold had put him into a survival mode in which he was just walking like a robot, barely responding to Matt’s voice except for an occasional grunt or short laugh. 

Matt therefore took the lead, his cane tapping on the ground in his left hand and an unresponsive, drunk-like grown man on his right arm. He had considered folding the cane, but at least it was making people move out of the way whenever they encountered someone, so he kept it in hand. 

He finally unlocked his door while Frank leant on the wall, out of breath and sweating. The caffeine was probably wearing off at this point. 

They stumbled inside together and Frank crashed on the couch, winded and sweaty, probably with a building fever. While Matt undressed and hung his coat up, his guest found the energy to take his shoes off and was struggling with his jacket when Matt intervened. He helped him take each arm out of the jacket and went to the bathroom to hang it up near the heater. 

While in the bathroom, he decided to wet a towel, which could come handy later if Frank’s fever should go up. He could hear Frank panting, the water dripping off his coat near him, the creaking sound of his couch under the weight of the man. The realisation hit him again, and an uncontrolled smile stretched his lips. 

Not only had he found the man, he now had him under his roof for as long as the storm lasted. Even longer if Frank needed to find a new place to stay. And as Matt had said in the office, he now had the opportunity to repay him for his good deed and offer him a bit of help. 

When he came back to Frank, all the sounds coming from the outside world were muffled, and the temperature had definitely dropped down. As he ran a finger on the window, he felt the snow building on the other side, and the vibrations of the building under the ferocious wind. The storm was there. 

“Do you want a glass of water, Frank?” he enquired towards the unmoving shape slouching on the couch. 

Frank must have turned his head to face him, judging by the sound of the leather under him and the cracks of his neck joints.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” the man replied, exhaustion audible in his voice. While Matt went to fill a glass in the kitchen, Frank straightened up and managed to sit properly enough to look around. 

The place was clean and well organised. The kitchen was simple, with efficient tools, that didn’t seem to be used too often. From where Frank was, he could see the bed, covered with what looked like… _wait, is that satin?_

He turned to look by the windows and felt inexplicably soothed by the sight of the snow covering everything and the frost creeping up on the glass. Snow like that meant calm days, easily trackable enemies and a good way to hide the drop of a body on the ground. 

Matt came back to him with a glass of water that he left on the low table, then sat in the chair and folded his hands together. He tilted his head when Frank took the glass and drank a bit, probably focusing on the sounds to help him understand what was going on. 

He jumped back on his feet when Frank shivered and said, as he was shuffling through his closet searching for something, “I think I have a… a blanket around here, if you just give me a minute…” 

He was searching with his hands only, fluttering above his clothes and his bed linens. Frank took pity on him and asked, his voice going dangerously close to extinction, “What colour? I can help you search, if ya want.” 

Matt only turned to him to decline his help and ensure he would stay on the couch before replying, a bit embarrassed, “Ah, you see, I don’t know its colour.”

_Of course he doesn’t know the colour, Frank, the man’s blind! When are you gonna learn? Remember the scarf, huh?_

Frank was about to apologise for his blunder, but Matt continued, oblivious to his guest’s trouble. 

“I bought it a long time ago because it felt nice and soft and… Ah! Here it is.”

He took out a large, curry-coloured blanket and went to hand it to Frank, who gladly took it. He let out an “Oh” when he felt it. It was way heavier than he had expected, and actually heavier than a regular blanket, but it was indeed soft and the weight felt nice on him. 

“It’s a, ah, a weighted blanket. It’s supposed to help you sleep better, so…” Matt added, awkwardly leaning towards Frank, unsure of where the blanket was. 

“It’s okay, I got it. Thanks.” Frank’s voice decided to disappear right at this moment and only a whisper came out, but Matt seemed to hear him anyway. 

He was about to head to the kitchen, but then his promise to Karen came back to his mind and he rushed to his phone. He technically could type. Foggy wouldn’t stop urging him to buy a new, fancier phone that would allow him to vocally dictate his messages, but he liked his old phone enough. 

So he took the time to type, focused on the letters he was pressing, and he felt Frank flinch when his phone announced with a monotone voice his recipient. “ _Karen._ ” 

“Message sent, promise kept!” he exclaimed cheerfully, before throwing his phone back into his pocket without thinking about it. 

He couldn’t pinpoint if Frank had seen him or not, so he decided to act natural. His phone chimed a few seconds later, and the robotic voice rose again. 

“ _I almost forgot I am glad you thought about it I am home as well take care of your guest and see you tomorrow_ ” 

Matt was about to prepare a herbal infusion for him and Frank when he heard Frank clearing his throat before murmuring, “Would you have a… a shirt and pants I could borrow for the night?”

Matt mentally shook himself, concerned about his lack of consideration for his guest. Sleeping in damp clothes was a nice and efficient way to catch a fever, and Frank didn’t need that. 

“You can look in the closet for something that fits you and your taste,” he responded, pointing at where he had searched for the blanket. 

He heard Frank’s grunt and felt him tossing the blanket on a corner of the couch and heading to the closet with small, careful steps. He rifled through the clothes and Matt couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. 

_What am I, a teenager? Foggy searched for clothes too and it didn’t bother me._

“Ah, that’ll do,” Frank finally said, triumphant. He headed to the bathroom to change, and Matt smiled. Foggy and Karen had had a hard time losing this habit around him, forgetting that he couldn’t see them change clothes anyway. It was a question of privacy and he could understand, especially from someone he knew as little as Frank. 

Frank came back shortly and sat back on the couch, stating,“I put my clothes on the heater, hope you don’t mind.”

Matt reassured him, put a cup of infusion next to the glass of water then yawned. He technically needed to go through his papers again, to prepare for the audience, but fatigue had suddenly taken possession of him and all his motivation was gone. 

He sat in the chair again, savouring the warm infusion in his hand and the scents emanating from it. It was a Christmas gift from Foggy’s family, along with a whole package of meats and two kitchen knives. It had chamomile, ginger, peppermint and elderberry, and it smelt divine. 

Frank took the cup and sniffed it discreetly. The scent was sweet and fruity, and the sip he took matched it in taste. It wasn’t a habit of his to drink infusions, but it was nice to have one, under a nice blanket on a comfortable couch. 

He examined his host, still skeptical about his motivations. Frank had only helped him once, about two months ago, and even if a nice turn of fate had brought them back together, they knew very little about each other. 

Well, that was partially a lie. He knew how Matt walked, had learnt quite a lot about how he could explore an unknown space, and had still to uncover the mysteries behind the man’s reflexes, which were slightly too good for a blind man. He now knew where he lived, how his apartment was furnished – with taste, as far as he was concerned. He knew his clothes size and it matched his own.

And deep down, he knew that for now, Matt was an ally, rather an enemy. And perhaps, for now, that was all he needed. 

Matt heard Frank putting down his cup and stretching. The memory of his grumbling stomach came back to him and he asked, concerned, “Do you want to eat something? You seemed pretty hungry when you arrived with Karen. And all you ate was Foggy’s snacks.”

He felt Frank waving at him, once again dismissing his concern. 

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for asking, I appreciate it.” 

He turned on himself and made wide movements with the blanket, making himself at ease. When he settled down, facing Matt, he whispered again, his voice on the edge of disappearing completely. 

“For now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ma sleep a bit.”

Matt smiled and finished his cup, savouring the last honey-filled gulp as it descended his throat. 

“I don’t mind at all. Sleep well, Frank.”

Only silence answered him, and he could already hear Frank’s heartbeat slowing down, slowing down again, close to that rhythm that had startled him in the first place, that had allowed everything to happen the way it had. His breathing deepened and his body temperature stabilised eventually. 

Matt rose from the chair and went to put the cups in the sink. He refilled the glass of water and left his bottle of honey next to it with a spoon, just in case Frank would like something to soothe his throat. 

Then he headed to his bed. After thinking about it for a moment, he decided to close his panels, to ensure Frank’s privacy – and his own as well. He changed into more relaxed clothes in which he could sleep if it became too cold despite the heaters, then sat crossed-legged in front of his bed, on the new carpet he had bought several months ago now, when he had decided his place needed more personal touches. 

He began to meditate, opening himself to the sounds all around him, the vibration of the building, the constant buzzing of electricity that was now softened by the snow. The tempest was drowning the usual sounds into a maelstrom of wind and snowflakes, and it soothed him. Without realising it at first, his heartbeat synchronised with Frank’s. He immersed himself into the calm and stayed still, breathing evenly. 

When he came back to his senses, he swiftly climbed into his bed and snuggled under his blankets. The temperature had lowered but it was still bearable, and the weighted blanket he had given to Frank was very warm, so he wasn’t worried about that. 

He spent a few minutes finding a proper position to fall asleep in, ignoring the strange elation blooming in his chest, and drifted off to sleep easily. 

~°~

Frank woke up feeling more rested than he had felt in weeks. He took a moment to let himself fully emerge from sleep, savouring the weight of the blanket on top of him, almost like a warm hug. He wiggled his toes and let out a deep grunt when he poked his head outside of the blanket. 

The light was dim, and for a moment he didn’t recognise where he was and started to panic. Seeing his backpack near the couch reassured him for a second: at least it was a friendly place. And they wouldn’t have provided them with an actual warm blanket if they weren’t friendly, right? 

He stretched and sat up, feeling light-headed and _oh_ , really hungry. He looked around and remembered the previous day, the snow, Red, his goddamn speech, his apartment and how Frank had felt so tired he just had to sleep. 

Frost had crept over the glass of most windows, except for one that was above a heater. The fantasy-looking forms and patterns created by it were beautiful, and Frank stared at them for a bit. 

Snow had blanketed the frost, and that was why the light was so dim and soft. The silence was surreal to Frank. There was almost no traffic to be heard, no noisy neighbours, almost nothing apart from the creaking of the wood present in the building. 

He put his feet on the floor and barely contained an expletive at how cold it was. Nonetheless, he stood, wrapped the blanket around him in a poor attempt to imitate a toga, and headed to the kitchen, firmly determined to cook something to appease his angry stomach, which was now grumbling louder and louder. 

He opened the fridge as silently as he could and searched for ingredients and ideas to prepare something. There were eggs, a good starting point. There were a few random vegetables: half a tomato, potatoes, carrots, and something that vaguely looked like broccoli, but not enough to be sure about it. 

He opened one of the fridge compartments to search for more. He found more eggs, an unopened pack of sausages – and the date was good, which meant it was joining his breakfast preparation – mustard and ketchup, milk and various juices in small boxes, and that was all. 

After searching all the fridge, Frank settled for scrambled eggs – because apparently Red had decided to put eggs absolutely everywhere he could in his fridge – sausages, fried eggs – because apparently there was never enough eggs – a good, strong, dark coffee, and toast, and that would be all because this kitchen, even if functional, was remarkably _empty_. 

He tightened his blanket around him and started to tame the utensils and equipment that he had. Soon, he found himself humming ever so silently, his voice barely a whisper above the clinking and clanking of the kitchen. The smells of eggs and warm bread filled the apartment and his stomach protested until he finally bit into a slice of bread. 

He washed two plates, forks and glasses that he arranged on the table, then promptly put his share of the eggs and sausages onto his plate before covering the rest to ensure it would stay warm as long as possible. After a moment of reflection, he exchanged his glass for a cup that he filled with coffee, for Red had a nice Italian coffee maker. 

Frank finally sat, content, and was about to start eating when one of the panels opened to reveal his host, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He was a bit disheveled and wearing what looked like gray sweatpants and a vivid green long-sleeved shirt. 

“Hello, Frank!” he said joyfully, approaching the counter and sniffing the air. “Thank you for the meal, it’s been ages since I woke up to the smell of breakfast.” 

He sat in front of Frank, searched carefully for his fork then enquired: 

“Could you please give me the pan?”

With his mouth full of eggs – which were delicious, as far as he was concerned – Frank turned to grab the pan and passed it to Matt, who served himself with control. He gave the pan back to Frank, then went to search for a box of juice into the fridge. 

“Oh, my, what a terrible host I make.” Red exclaimed after having eaten a bit of sausages. “Did you sleep well? The sausages are amazing by the way, thank you.” 

Frank smiled inwardly. Red was very talkative, but that didn’t bother him as much as it should have. And he liked Frank’s cooking, which was nice of him. 

“I slept like a baby, thank you for your concern.” His voice was still raspy, so he kept it low and whispery. “Didn’t know those blankets before, but I think I like them.” 

Matt took another mouthful, of eggs this time, before answering. “Glad to hear that. Yeah, it’s Karen who introduced me to weighted blankets, and it helped me quite a lot, especially when I was stressed out before a case.”

They continued to talk eagerly while eating. Matt complimented Frank on his cooking more than once, saying it was better than his “hangover breakfasts”, and even if Frank didn’t want to admit it, he appreciated the attention and the praise. 

He enquired about the juice cartons when he witnessed Matt grimace after taking a gulp of his, and let out a good laugh when Matt told him that it was a bit of a game, to choose mixed juice boxes and let chance guide his hand every morning. He didn’t like the grapefruit one, which was the one he had picked, and favoured either the apple or the grape ones. 

When they had finished, Matt gathered everything Frank had used in the sink and proceeded to wash them while Frank stretched a bit and searched in his bag. 

As he was drying his hands, Matt turned around and sniffed the air. There was a strong smell of spices suddenly, which was odd since he didn’t own much spices. The scent was coming from the table in front of the couch, so he came closer. It was very, _very_ strong. 

“A bit of a, uh, Christmas present. I thought you would like the attention. But, uh, if you don’t want it…” Frank was eating his words and speaking so low Matt could hear him only thanks to his senses. 

He interrupted him before he could finish. “No, no, I like spices, thanks! Just, not in my face, but you know that.” 

They laughed together and he grabbed the scented object. It was an ensemble of small pots on a wooden support, with a total of a dozen pots. Now that he was used to it, Matt managed to distinguish the different spices. There were ones he knew and recognised, like turmeric and cumin, and others he had never smelt before. 

He put them on his worktop and profusely thanked Frank, who was a bit embarrassed by all the gratitude. Then, because he felt like he had to ask, Matt said, “Would you like to stay until the storm has passed?” 

He was more nervous than he had expected, and Frank’s state matched his own: his heart was beating faster than his usual steady tempo and he stuttered before answering. 

“Yeah. Yeah, if you want me, I think I’d like that.” After a silence, during which Matt felt this strange exhilaration again, he added playfully, “And now that you have spices, I have to watch you, right?”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have a moment and enjoyed your reading, let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thank you~


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